Letters From Home
by jwhaler82
Summary: While Miles is off fighting in Iraq, he gets some friendly news from his family. Please RR.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: If anyone reading this is against the War In Iraq, I'm sorry, I don't mean to offend anybody. And I hope our troops come home soon. I hope you enjoy the storyanyway.  
**

* * *

July 2002, Just outside of Baghdad

* * *

"ADVANCE TO THE REAR! MOVE! MOVE!" 

Colonel Brigman shouted the order to the remaining members of his squadron. The squad began retreating. All around them, there were bullets flying and grenades exploding.

One soldier, Sgt. Miles Tuck, was rolling his eyes as he ran.

"Why doesn't he just call it what it is?" he complained to himself, "A retreat."

But he knew Col. Brigman was a proud man who didn't like to admit defeat. Fortunately, he was not willing to lead his men into a fight that couldn't be won, and have them fight to the death.

* * *

The day before, HQ had received word that Iraqi leader, Saddam Hussein, was being moved from to an airstrip outside the city. From there, he would be flown to a safer location. The prospect of capturing Saddam was too much for General Davis to pass up. He immediately appointed his good friend, Col. Brigman to lead the operation. 

Col. Brigman recruited 15 volunteers for this mission, including Sgt. Tuck. Miles was one of the bravest and smartest soldiers that Brigman had ever met. But unbeknownst to anybody, Miles also had another special quality. He was an immortal. The 212-year-old and his family had drunk from a magic spring near the small town of Treegap, Connecticut in 1825. The Tucks didn't know it for several weeks, but the spring water had caused them to stop aging instantly. They were also immune to any kind of physical injury.

The transformation seemed to have the biggest impact on Miles. His wife of thirteen years had walked out on him when she found out, and took the kids with her. Within a few weeks, the whole county was out to get them. Rumors of immortals had grown into rumors of witchcraft. The Tucks spent the next few decades hiding from the world. Miles never completely got over the loss of his family, and enlisted in the army. He saw war as a way to vent his anger. He had fought in many wars since the Civil War.

Now, here he was in Iraq. Unlike many of the men and women he served with, he knew without a doubt that he would be coming home. He always did.

* * *

The squadron had to move out early in the morning. By 0530 that morning, they were hiding in a ditch, a hundred yards from the airstrip. There, they waited, until 0600 when Saddam's armed escort arrived at the airstrip. Brigman gave the order, and the squad moved out of the trench and up to the fence. Brigman ordered five soldiers to wait here and to keep the exit secure. 

After cutting through the wire fence, the remaining ten men, including Miles and Brigman, crept slowly onto the airstrip.

"In two minutes, ladies and gents," whispered Brigman, "I want us outside the hanger, ready to take the prisoner. He's probably rushing to catch his flight as we sp-,"

Suddenly, there was a loud crash. Pvt. Anne Sawyer had bumped into a stack of crates and had knocked them over, making a crash. Sawyer looked embarrassed.

"Ah, crap!" muttered Brigman.

Suddenly, searchlights were being pointed in their direction. A voice came over the loudspeakers, shouting what the team believed was "Intruders" in Arabic. Soldiers charged out of the shadows, shooting they're automatic rifles as they ran. Miles watched as two men were shot dead before his eyes.

Brigman ordered the men to take cover. They ran and hid behind a truck and some crates.

After several minutes of trying to hold off their attackers, Brigman finally gave the order.

"ADVANCE TO THE REAR! MOVE! MOVE!"

* * *

Miles saw at least two or three men fall during their escape, but he kept running. If they were dead, then there was no point in going back for then. Sometimes, he wished he could die (Immortality was a heavy burden after all), but he couldn't, so he kept running. 

By 0700, the remaining eight soldiers were back in the trench.

"Is everyone okay?" asked Miles "How many did we lose?"

"Seven," answered Pvt. Knoll, "Compton and Buckman were the first two shot, and we lost five in the escape."

"Knoll," said Brigman, hanging his head, "Get on the radio. Inform HQ that this mission is a bust, and inform them of the casualties."

Just then, there was a loud whoosh. The squad looked up and saw Saddam's chopper flying away. Sawyer started crying. "This is all my fault. If I had just been more careful…"

Brigman shook his head. He wasn't fond of crying in the military, but he was a little more easygoing to the women. He gently put his hand on her shoulder to calm her down.

"It's not your fault," he said, calmly, "We knew this would be a risky operation. I guess we just bit off more than we could handle." Sawyer started to calm down.

Just then, Miles radio squeaked on.

"Hello?" shouted a voice, "Is there anyone there?"

Miles took his radio. "10-4!" replied Miles, "Thornburg, is that you?"

"Sure is!" replied Thornburg.

Upon hearing that there were more survivors, the squad gave a small cheer. Miles turned back to his radio. "Thornburg, what's your twenty and status?"

"Well, I'm in a small hole in the ground along with along with Spears and Hansen. Spears took a shot to the arm, and Hansen twisted her ankle jumping into the hole. As for our position, Hansen's sending you that right now."

Miles put down his radio and peered over the edge of the trench. As he quickly looked around, he saw a helmet on the end of a gun sticking out of a hole a few feet away.

Just then, there were some shots fired. The enemy hadn't forgot about them. Miles ducked back into the trench as some shots hit the ground just a few inches from his face.

"We would appreciate a little help here," Thornburg continued, as Miles picked up his radio.

"We'll be right there. Give us a minute."

"10-4."

Miles turned to Brigman. "Sir, permission to-,"

"Denied!" answered Brigman. The squad turned to him in shock.

"I'm sorry, but it's 'no man's land' up there. If you go up there you'll get shot before you make it ten feet."

"But sir,"

"I'm sorry!" said Brigman in a more forceful tone, "It's not that I don't care. I do. If we could help them, we would. But they're pinned down pretty hard. We need to concentrate on getting whoever we can out of here. End of discussion!"

As Brigman sent his orders to Thornburg over the radio, Miles sat in his corner, thinking. Although he trusted Brigman's judgment, he wasn't about to leave his friends to die. A split-second after making his decision, Miles jumped out of the trench and charged toward the hole.

"He's a dead man," muttered Brigman.

* * *

Although Miles was immortal, it didn't mean Miles couldn't feel pain. As he ran, he felt the sting of hundreds of bullets hitting him all over his body. At one point, he thought he felt one go through his head. To make his gambit less suspicious-looking, at one point, Miles dropped to his stomach and crawled the remaining ten feet to the hole. 

"Tuck?" exclaimed Thornburg, as Miles crawled into the hole, "How did-,"

"Not the time!" stated Miles before Thornburg could ask how he got here without a mark, "Just be ready to move!" He pulled two grenades from his belt.

"Can you stand?" He asked, turning to Hansen.

"I can limp," she replied, "Does that work?"

"It'll have to," answered Miles.

Peering over the edge of the hole, Miles tossed the grenades toward a group of oncoming soldiers. The following explosion sent most of the soldiers flying in all directions.

"GO!" he shouted. As the three scrambled out of the hole, Miles drew his gun to provide some cover fire. Once they were out of the hole, Miles climbed out after them. He continued to provide cover fire until they got back to the trench.

The trench was deserted when they got back. As they started to wonder if they'd been left behind, their truck drove up, with Knoll behind the wheel.

"Let's go!" he shouted.

Miles and the others hopped into the back, and the truck sped off.

* * *

During the trip back to HQ, Brigman turned to Miles. 

"Sgt. Tuck," he stated, "What you did back there was reckless, foolhardy, and somewhat idiotic! Care to tell me what you were thinking?"

Miles hung his head and sighed. "I just couldn't leave a man behind, sir."

Brigman nodded. "Well, I just have one more question?" Miles sighed.

Brigman smiled. "Are there more people out there like you?"

As the squad began applauding his heroic attempts, Miles smiled. He didn't smile very often. Since his wife and kids had died, he didn't have a lot of reasons to smile.

Miles spent most of his life wishing he were dead. But it was moments like this that made his life worth living.


	2. Chapter 2

2 days later…

* * *

It was letter day at the barracks. The whole barracks was bustling with activity and morale was up as soldiers got their letters and packages from home. At the moment, Spears and Hansen were just strolling through the barracks.

As they walked past Miles' bunk, they glanced inside and saw Miles laughing at a postcard he was reading.

"Hey, look, a smile," exclaimed Hansen, as she barged into the bunk, "Now there's something you don't see everyday." Miles looked up as she entered. Spears followed after her.

"I hope were not intruding," said Hansen, nervously.

Miles shook his head. "You're fine."

"So, what're you reading that's so funny?" asked Spears. Just then, Hansen elbowed him and gave her his 'you've overstepped your boundaries' look.

"Just reading a postcard from my little knucklehead of a brother, Jesse. Here take a look." He handed the postcard to Hansen, who sat down on the cot across from Miles. Spears sat down next to her.

On one side of the postcard was a panoramic view of the Earth as taken from the space shuttle. Then, they turned it over. It read:

* * *

_Dear Miles,_

_Wish you were here._

_Love, Jesse._

* * *

The two burst out laughing.

"Yup," said Miles, "Jesse's a wacko, but I love him, anyway."

Miles reached into a small stack of letters and packages next to him on the cot and picked up a letter from Paris.

"You guys are welcome to stick around if you want. I usually don't read my letters in front of anyone, but I don't see any harm."

"Well, thank you," replied Hansen.

Miles read the return address on the letter, and then held it up to the others.

"This one's from Winnie, Jesse's girlfriend," said Miles.

"So, why is your brother's girlfriend writing to you?" cracked Spears.

"Well, last I heard they were backpacking through Europe together," replied Miles. He opened the letter and read it out loud:

* * *

_Dear Miles,_

_I hope you weren't offended by Jesse's postcard. I told him it might have been a little over the top. But he insisted, so I told him if you get mad, he's on his own._

_Anyway, Jesse and I have done so much amazing stuff in just a few days. Oh my gosh! Paris is amazing. It's just like I always imagined. Don't worry. I took plenty of pictures. They're in the box that came with this letter._

* * *

At this point, Miles paused. He picked up the box from Winnie and opened it. Inside was a stack of pictures and some souvenirs. Miles took out the pictures. The first picture was of Jesse and Winnie, sitting on a park bench and posing for a picture. He showed the picture to Spears and Hansen.

"Wow," remarked Hansen, "your brother's a good-lookin' guy."

"She's pretty cute, too," said Spears, glancing at Winnie.

"How long have they been together?" asked Hansen.

Miles smiled. "Well, somedays it seems like they've been together forever (Miles grinned at his use of subtlety), but they met when Jesse was seventeen and Winnie was fifteen. Now, Jesse's twenty and Winnie's about eighteen. I'm told they've been in Europe all summer, and they'll both be heading to USC in the fall. But they've been talking about backpacking through Europe for a long time."

Miles turned back to the letter and continued reading. He held up each picture as he read about them.

* * *

_Anyway, as soon as we got off the train from London, we went straight to the Eiffel Tower. We thought about finding a hotel first, but neither of us could wait._

* * *

Miles held up a picture of Jesse and Winnie standing in front of the Eiffel Tower.

* * *

_We didn't take the elevator. We walked right up all 1600 steps. Jesse's right, it's more fun this way. The view from the top is just breathtaking. Paris is such a beautiful city, especially at night when they light up the whole city. I wish I could show you. Oh, wait. I can._

* * *

Miles held up a picture of the Paris skyline after dark.

"Wow," gasped Hansen, "It's so pretty."

* * *

_The next day, Jesse and I visited the Louvre. I insisted. 'Jesse,' I said, 'we can't come to the most beautiful city in the world and not see the most renowned works of art ever conceived by man.' He didn't want to go at first, but once we got there, he was as blown away as I was. To be honest, seeing the Mona Lisa in books is nothing compared to seeing it in person._

* * *

Miles held up a picture of Jesse and Winnie standing in front of the Mona Lisa.

* * *

_Well, I have to go now. Jesse and I are going out tonight. Just remember, we both worry about you. Come home soon…and safe. I hope you like the souvenirs Jesse and I sent you._

_Hope to see you soon,_

_Winnie_

* * *

Miles put down the letter and reached back into the box. He pulled out a small 57 souvenir replica of the Mona Lisa and a box of chocolates.

"Awesome," said Spears.

Miles smiled. "Spears," he said, opening the box of chocolates, "Go ahead, I know you're gonna ask." Spears took a chocolate from the box and popped it in his mouth.

"Mmmm," he replied, "That's dang good chocolate. Thanks, man."

Miles offered Hansen some chocolate, but she shook her head. Miles took a chocolate and closed the box.

"I'll look at the rest of Winnie's pictures later," he said, reaching for the other letter. "Right now, I want to know how Ma and Pa are doing…"


	3. Chapter 3

Miles opened the next letter and started reading:

* * *

_Dear Miles,_

_Hope your well. We hardly ever hear from you. We hear a lot about what's happening out there on the news, but I would worry less if you wrote and told us that you and your friends are okay._

* * *

"Ahhh," Spears joked, "Mummy misses her little baby." Miles gave Spears a quick glare and Spears stopped laughing. "Shutting up," he said. Miles chuckled and continued reading.

* * *

_Your father's carpentry business is doing very well. He's doing it all; making toys, fixing houses, building furniture and he just finished a gazebo for a couple of newlyweds. It was a wedding gift from their parents, but they don't know about it yet. They get back from their honeymoon in a few days. Tuck has to take it over to their house before they get back. I'm keeping myself busy as well. I opened that bakery I was talking about. My staff is comprised mostly of teenagers. They can be a handful sometimes, but they're still a joy to be a round. There's one girl in particular, Samantha. She's so much fun to be around, and she loves to bake. I'm teaching her as much as I can, and I'm learning quite a few things from her, too. By the way, I sent you some oatmeal cookies. I now they're your favorite._

* * *

Miles opened the cardboard box that came with the letter. There were about 30 cookies in it.

"You think your mom sent you enough?" Hanson cracked.

"She's just one of those moms," Miles replied. He looked over at Spears, who was staring, hungrily, into the box. He rolled his eyes. "Go ahead, Spears."

"Thank you," he snapped, as he dove into the box and pulled out three oatmeal cookies. Hanson also took a cookie.

"So I take it your parents don't live in the city?" Hanson said.

Miles shook his head. "They don't like the big cities. According to my parents, the city is loud, chaotic, busy and full of crime. Pa says he wants to live somewhere where he can actually see the stars at night. They live in Elkwood, which is 20 miles from Treegap, which is 30 miles from Albany."

Miles continued reading:

* * *

_Last week, your father and I went on a camping trip with some of our friends from church. It was three days of camping, hiking, swimming, that sort of thing. Nothing too exciting, although a couple of people got poison ivy._

* * *

Hanson chuckled. "It may not be exciting, but it sure sounds relaxing._  
_

* * *

_Oh, also we got our first computer two weeks ago. It's been useful, but it was a pain in the butt learning how to use it. It took us almost an hour to find the "on" switch. And we've needed a lot of help from that Geek Squad just to figure out how it works, but overall, we think it was a good investment._

* * *

Spears laughed. "Your parents don't know how to use a computer?"

"They're very simple people," Miles said, "They don't buy anything that they don't think is useful."

* * *

_Well, that life in a nutshell. You're not missing much, except some rain. Enjoy the cookies, and give your friends our best._

* * *

"Thank you, Mrs. Tuck." replied Hanson.

Everyone chuckled.


	4. Chapter 4

Just then the tent flap opened, and Colonel Brigman's head popped into the tent.

"Alright, campers!" he announced. Our new orders just came in! Grab your gear, we move out in ten minutes!" Spears left to go get his gear.

Before leaving, Hanson turned back to Miles.

"Was there something else you wanted to tell me?" asked Miles.

Hanson smiled, sweetly, "Well, actually, I was doing some thinking about the other day. I was wondering how you managed to get across no man's land without a mark to show for it."

This was one of the many questions Miles didn't like to answer, and he didn't know what to say. Before he could answer, Hanson put her fingers up to his lips and continued, "But then I figure, you've probably got an angel looking out for you. And as a result, we've all got an angel looking out for us. I guess what I'm trying to say is, 'you fight good', and 'thank you'." Hanson planted a small kiss on Miles cheek. Then, she gave him a hearty slap on the arm. "See ya in ten, Tuck!" She chuckled and left.

Miles smiled. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his wedding ring. He thought about his wife, Abigail. He thought about her reddish, brown hair, her light green eyes, the warmth in her smile and the way she would sometimes giggle for no reason other than she was happy. Hanson reminded him a lot of Abigail. They looked a lot alike and (except for the fact that Abigail was anything but a fighter) they had a lot of traits in common.

He looked back at the letter and read the part from his father:

* * *

_Miles, even though we know you can't die, your mother and I still worry about you. We all know that you fight more to vent your anger than to serve your country. We know you have a lot of reason to hate the world, but remember you have your family behind you, and not everyone you meet wants to cause you grief. There are still good people in this world. Remember that, and maybe you'll smile more._

* * *

Miles smiled and wiped a tear from his eye. Nobody was allowed to see him crying. He was "army tough" with "nerves of steel." He folded the letter and stuffed it in his pocket. He grabbed his gear and headed out to join the others.

"Come on, people!" shouted Sgt. Dalton. "We've got a busy schedule to keep up with!" Nobody liked Frank Dalton. He always seemed to be in a bad mood, and he was always bossing people around. This had led him to be the butt of a lot of good jokes.

Miles through his gear in the back of one of the trucks, then climbed into the truck and took a seat between Hanson and Spears. Both were a bit surprised to see him smiling.

"Are you alright?" asked Hanson.

"I'm great," Miles answered "Why?"

"You usually don't smile this much."

"Well, today, I just feel like smiling."

Hanson rolled her eyes, "Okay. Maybe I should peck you on the cheek more often."

The truck started up, and the troops headed out.


	5. Chapter 5

I own nothing. The lyrics below are from Letters From Home, by John Michael Montgomery. I thought it would be a good way to end the story. So, tell me what you thought it.

* * *

I hold it up and show my buddies, 

Like we ain't scared and our boots ain't muddy,

and they all laugh,Like there's something funny bout' the way I talk

When I say: "Mama sends her best y'all."

I fold it up an' put it in my shirt,

Pick up my gun an' get back to work.

An' it keeps me driving me on,

Waiting on letters from home.


End file.
